


Cat and Mouse

by ChocoboCowgirl



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23874460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoboCowgirl/pseuds/ChocoboCowgirl
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Cat and Mouse

Reno sauntered into the Director’s office and plopped his butt down on the corner of Tseng’s desk. Tseng hated it when he did that, but he pretended not to notice this time, keeping his head inclined over the paperwork in front of him. Amused by his ability to ignore him, Reno crossed his arms and leaned over the desk towards Tseng, further invading his personal space.

“Watcha workin’ on?” he prodded.

“Preparations for tomorrow,” Tseng answered matter-of-factly. Reno should know this.

“Why? What’s tomor – Oh!” Reno exclaimed, an impish smile spreading across his face.

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” Rude stood in the open doorway, a hand adjusting the dark glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Of course I didn’t forget! How could I? It’s the most exciting day of the month. So, Boss, what’s the plan this time?” Reno asked, eagerly rubbing his hands together like a stereotypical villain.

Tseng looked up at him with a glint in his dark eyes and slid a paper across his desk towards him. Reno snatched it up and hungrily skimmed the page. “You really think he’ll go down this time? I dunno, my money’s on up again.”

“I’ll bet on that,” Rude said, joining them at the desk. “He’s getting better.”

“Yeah. I really thought he would’ve given up by now,” said Reno, handing the paper over to Rude.

“He’s nothing if not persistent,” said Tseng proudly.

“Whatever he does, I hope it’s more exciting than last time, yo.”

“We’ll find out tomorrow won't we?” answered Tseng, reaching out to take the paper back from Rude. Then his eyes narrowed as they slid over to Reno. “Now get off my desk.”

-

Rufus Shinra looked up at the gold-rimmed clock by the door of his executive office. 6:00PM. Let the games begin, he thought.

It had all started seven months ago, this game of theirs. It had been his idea, of course. Tseng never would’ve volunteered anything so exciting as this monthly contest of cat-and-mouse. The concept was quite simple. The game started at 6:00 after all of the building's employees had left for the day, and the mouse then had six hours to escape. He, of course, was the mouse. His Turks, the cats. If he didn’t make it out of the Shinra Building by midnight, the Turks won. The current score: Turks-6 Rufus-0. Their first match had ended with his capture in less than an hour. Every round after that had been a steady improvement. Except last month. That game was about as bad the first for Rufus.

There were only two ways out of the building. Up to the roof where he could steal a helicopter, or down and out the front doors on the main level. He had tried the roof the last three times and gotten closer each time. Except for the last time.

-

It was now 6:21 and Rufus still sat at his desk, watching the clock. As long as he stayed in his office, he was safe. Or at least he assumed he was. Rushing in and apprehending him this early on would be no fun. House cats liked to play with their prey. That was the difference between stray cats and house cats. A stray hunted because it had to and so took its prey quickly out of necessity. A house cat, however, was never truly hungry and so took their time, hunting for the pure thrill of it. If his Turks were cats, they’d be the latter.

Prying his eyes away from the clock, Rufus lifted the book from his lap, leaned back in his chair, and resumed reading. It was time to see just how patient the cat could be.

-

The clock read 8:47. It’s now or never. Rufus closed his book with a loud snap and tossed it on the center of his desk, cover up. The glossy image of a jet black cat with claws outstretched stared up at him as he stepped around his desk and headed for the door. Grasping the handle, he gave it a hard twist and stepped boldly out into the hall. Of course they could’ve been waiting for him, but he knew that was unlikely. It would’ve been too easy. He strode straight for the elevator and stopped in front of it, finger poised over the call button. The second he pressed that button, the cats would know the mouse had left its hidey-hole. It was time to play. He pressed the button. The floor indicator light above the door showed the car quickly approaching from Floor 27. He estimated he had about thirty seconds.

Turning on his heel, he ran back to his office and slammed the door shut behind him. Jumping onto his desk, he pushed aside the slatted cover of the ventilation duct. He had removed the screws from its four corners a few hours prior. Out in the hall, he heard the familiar distant chime of the elevator as it came to a stop.

-

Reno pressed himself deep into the corner of the elevator to the right of the door as it coasted to a stop. It was about time. He’d been sitting in this frickin’ elevator for three hours. He was ready to play. With one hand, he pulled his goggles down over his eyes then held a cloth over his nose and mouth. In the other hand, he held a smoke bomb of his own making. Nothing noxious, just a little something to liven the party. The doors slid open. Reno counted off the seconds. …8…9…10… the doors began to close. Reno stuck his foot in the doorway to stop them as he lowered the cloth from his face and shoved the bomb back in his pocket. The doors bounced off his shoe and popped back open.

“Heya!’ He leaped into the hall brandishing his electric rod, but Rufus was nowhere in sight. He shoved the goggles back up his forehead and looked around the empty hallway. With a growl, he pulled the phone from his pocket and called Tseng. “Where’s he at, yo?” he demanded.

“The sensors in the stairwell have not been tripped,” Tseng reported.

Reno’s eyes slid towards Rufus’ office door. “Well this is something new,” he purred as he pocketed the phone and took long lazy strides towards the door. Lifting the baton from his shoulder, he rapped a quick staccato rhythm on the doorframe. “Olly olly oxen free,” he called with a little chuckle.

As expected, the door remained closed. He put his hand on the doorknob, and it twisted easily under his grip. Not locked? Reno counted to three then threw his weight against the door. It didn’t budge, and he smashed his face into its smooth surface.

“What the hell?!” he screamed as he stumbled back, a hand covering his throbbing nose. With a growl, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted it once more. He pushed against the handle, but the door stayed put. Turning is body sideways, he leaned his shoulder into it and gave it a sturdy shove. The door opened an inch, accompanied by a scraping sound. Reno peeked through the small opening he had made and saw the edge of Rufus’ large desk pressed up against the backside of the door. With a grunt, he leaned into the door and continued to push until it stood open about a foot. Then he slipped inside.

Reno had never been inside Rufus’s office during one of their games before. His eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for anything out of place. Other than the desk, all seemed to be in order. What are you up to, VP? Rufus’s desk chair still sat where the desk should’ve been. Reno walked a small circuit around it, his baton tapping a steady beat against his shoulder as he studied every corner of the room. A faint popping noise reached his ears, and he came to a halt. Standing perfectly still, he held his breath and listened. One corner of his mouth turned up in a clever smirk as he arched his eyebrows and rolled his eyes upwards. He slowly tipped his head back to look up towards the ceiling. Another distant noise echoed down to him from the ventilation shaft above his head. Taking the baton from his shoulder, he pointed it towards the vent cover and gave it a firm poke. The carefully balanced grate slipped loose and came crashing down, landing on the polished floor at Reno’s feet with a loud clatter. The sound of a scurrying body inside the vent quickly followed.

“Found ya,” Reno said with a wicked grin.

Jumping up on the chair, he grabbed hold of the opening in the vent and pulled himself inside.

-

Rufus watched from the slatted door of the coat closet in the corner of his office as Reno’s long legs disappeared up into the ventilation shaft. He couldn’t help but smile at his own cleverness. One cat down, two to go. Silently he pushed open the closet door and tiptoed across the room. He paused next to his desk and stuck his head out into the hall. Coast was clear. He positioned his body sideways and attempted to slide through the narrow opening. Reno was much thinner than he was, and he had to suck it in to slip through the same small space, since he couldn’t move the desk further and risk alerting the Turk to his presence. Once outside, he ran to the elevator.

-

Reno crawled through the ventilation shaft on his hands and knees. He could hear his quarry up ahead as the bottom of the metal conduit buckled under the weight of each placement of his prey’s hands and knees. At the next intersection, he paused to listen. Left. Reno grinned. He knew this system like the back of his hand. And left was a dead end. Checkmate.

Reno slowed as he neared the last corner. His prey had stopped. He undoubtedly knew he was trapped. The question now was whether he would fight or surrender? In the beginning, Rufus always resisted capture, but lately he started giving up. Not worth the bruises, he had said.

“Fine with me,” Reno mumbled. The last thing he wanted was a boot to the face. His nose still hurt from its meeting with the door.

“I’m here for ya, VP!” he announced and charged around the corner.

All he saw was a flurry of claws and fur, accompanied by what he could only describe as a demonic earsplitting scream that was amplified by the tight metal box that trapped him inside with it.

-

A monitor flickered to Tseng’s right. Someone had just accessed the elevator. So, Rufus had managed to slip past Reno. Impressive. He picked up the phone to alert him, but stopped short. Reno had gotten the kill the last two times. Time for someone else to have a little fun. Smiling to himself, he leaned forward in his chair and rested his chin in the palm of his black gloved hand. His eyes hovered over the screen in front of him. The Vice President’s image reflected in his nearly black irises as he watched him enter the elevator, press a button and move to the back of the car. Rufus hadn’t disabled the surveillance camera this time. Tseng wondered why. He watched the sensors in the elevator shaft click by as it descended. So he was going down. Tseng had been right. He usually was. He knew the Vice President better than Rufus knew himself.

The floor indicator continued to go through the floors until it came to an unexpected stop almost halfway down. 49. Tseng rose out of his chair and pounded a fist on the tabletop next to the monitor. It was no coincidence the Vice President had chosen the only floor they didn’t have working cameras on. The SOLDIER Floor. He snatched up the phone and alerted the others.

-

Reno was lying on his side, curled in the fetal position when his phone rang. He retrieved it from his pocket.

“He's on Floor 49,” Tseng reported.

“On my way,” Rude answered on the joint call.

“Be care–”

“No!” Reno cut in, his voice echoing eerily inside the ventilation shaft, “I'm already there. Or close, anyway.”

“Reno, where are you?” Tseng asked.

“Ventilation shaft. Long story…”

-

Rufus' phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. Tseng was calling. Right on time.

“You let a cat loose in the ventilation system?” the Turk asked, his voice flat.

“Was that me?” Rufus asked, his voice alight with sarcasm as he began unbuttoning his coat.

“Reno seems to think so.”

“What else does Reno think?” Rufus shifted the phone to his other hand and pulled his arm out of the sleeve.

“I'll let him tell you himself when he gets there.”

Rufus let slip a hum of amusement. “In that case, I'm going to have to hurry,” he said before disconnecting the call. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and began to unfasten his belt.

-

Reno slid down the last incline in the shaft and came to a stop at the slatted vent cover. Two sturdy kicks and the grate crashed to the floor. He stuck his feet through the opening and dropped down into the SOLDIER supply room. Rows of SOLDIER uniforms, weapons, and Materia storage containers lined the walls of the small room. Nowhere to hide in there. He ran to the door. A flash of white caught his eye and he paused with his hand on the door handle. There, in the corner of the room, was a wadded up coat. A white coat. Reno bent over and snatched it up. A pair of white trousers were stuffed in the corner beneath it. He was grinning as he shook the wrinkles out of the garment and held it up. It was Rufus's all right. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers. Damn, Rufus has nice stuff. He pulled it on over his suit and popped the collar. The sleeves were a bit short on him, but he liked it. “Finders keepers, VP,” he announced and left the supply room.

As he stepped out into the main hall of Floor 49, he looked across the lobby to the elevators. Someone in a 3rd Class uniform, complete with helmet and visor, was stepping onto the elevator. The man turned around and smiled at him as the doors began to slide shut. Reno sprinted for the elevator, but was too late to catch the doors. The light over the door showed he was heading down. He pulled out his phone.

“He's headed your way,” he reported.

-

“I'm ready for him,” Rude assured him as he waited outside the elevators on the first floor.

“He's wearing a SOLDIER uniform,” Reno warned him, “3rd Class with a helmet.”

Rude grunted, sounding amused. He was getting clever indeed. He stepped back and watched the number above the door counting down. …8…7…6…5…4…3…2… The carriage arrived with a soft ding. A few more seconds passed, and the doors popped open. A SOLDIER 3rd Class stepped off. He nodded politely at Rude and turned towards the main lobby at a brisk walk. Rude watched him, following a couple paces behind. There was no mistaking those squared shoulders and stiff spine. Surely he knew the Turk was onto him. Any second now he would break into a mad dash for the front door. Rude picked up the pace and drew closer. Before they reached the atrium, he threw an arm over his prey's shoulder and wrapped it around his neck. His throat fit nicely in the crook of Turk's elbow as he put a steady even pressure on the carotid arteries on either side of his neck.

The SOLDIER began to struggle, first clawing at Rude's arm. Then he threw an elbow. The strike hit the Turk squarely in the ribs. Oomph. He hit harder than expected. Rude's grip loosened. Then he was off the ground, being pulled over the SOLDIER's shoulder. He flipped over and landed on his back in the middle of the hallway with the SOLDIER standing over him. Before the he had a chance to gloat, the Turk threw a fist up into the man's crotch. He gasped and staggered back as Rude vaulted back to his feet, ready to fight. Rufus was really upping his game for this round. That made Rude smile before he lunged for him. Grabbing a fistful of the knit turtleneck under his chin, he lifted him off the ground. A quick right hook landed on Rude's jaw. It didn't faze the Turk.

“Impressive, sir,” Rude praised him before slamming him into the wall and letting him slide down it to the floor. “But game's over.”

“What game?” came a wheezing voice from the man on the floor. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Rude reached down and snatched the helmet off the SOLDIER. A dark-haired kid sat staring up at him with glowing jade colored eyes. “You're gonna pay for that, Turk,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

-

The time was 10:03. Rufus straightened his tie and adjusted the collar of his gray button-down as he entered the stairwell on silent feet. He shrugged his shoulders. They felt so light, almost naked without his coat. He looked down at the dark trousers on his legs. Such a stark contrast to his usual attire. He felt very conspicuous. He shrugged his shoulders again in an attempt to cast off the feeling and started down the stairs.

-

“You did what?” asked Tseng slowly. He lifted a hand to his face and messaged his forehead in small circles. “You jumped a SOLDIER?”

“Hey, don't blame me!” Reno's voice cut into the joint call. “I was sure it was him, yo!”

Rude remained silent.

“Well you're both in luck,” Tseng told them, turning back to the screen in front of him. “The stairwell sensors are lighting up like a Christmas tree… He's going up.”

“Roof again?” asked Rude.

“That sneaky little bastard. He thinks he's so clever,” shot Reno.

“Well, he has outwitted you twice now,” Tseng reminded him, doing well to conceal the amusement in his voice.

“He got lucky!” retorted Reno.

“Whatever the case, you better hurry,” Tseng warned, “He's already on floor… 58.”

“I call the stairs!” Reno announced, “Rude, get the elevator.”

Tseng closed the call and rose from his chair, eyes on the monitor. That should occupy them for a few minutes, he thought as he headed for the door. He needed to hurry. Rufus was already on the fifth floor, and he didn’t fancy his prey escaping him so easily.

-

Rufus paused at the door at the bottom of the stairwell, breathing heavily. Forty-nine flights of stairs were a lot, even if they were all downhill. About halfway down, around floor twenty, he’d heard a door open up high above him, followed by Reno’s obnoxious yodel, “Right behind ya, VP!” Rufus had ducked back beneath the stairs and listened, somewhat relieved to hear his footsteps receding. Reno was going up? Still, it wouldn’t take the light-footed Turk long to reach the roof and realize his mistake, so Rufus had made the most of it and busted his butt to reach the bottom of the stairwell in record time. The effort had winded him, or was it the adrenaline?

In front of him, a large 01 was printed on the back of the door in white paint. He placed his palm just below the number and pushed it open. He stepped into the hallway. It was empty. He turned towards the lobby. It looked empty too. With his body and mind on high alert, he made his way quickly down the hall. As he passed the elevators, one chimed. The light over its door lit up. Rufus kept moving as he heard the doors slide open behind him.

“Mr. Vice President.”

Rufus recognized the voice of his head Turk behind him. The tone of it was almost sinister. His heart beat faster, if that were even possible. He didn't even look back, he just ran.

Rufus bolted towards the main lobby with Tseng on his heels, knowing that at any second the Turk would tackle him to the ground and that would be the end of it. Tseng wasn't one to play games. If he got so much as a finger on him, it would be over.

The grand stairway loomed ahead. The hallway ended abruptly at a short railing and split into two curving staircases that circumvented the perimeter of the lobby. Which side should he take. Right? Left? Which would Tseng be expecting? Did it matter? Without hesitating, he chose neither. Running straight up to the railing, he planted a hand on the top of it and vaulted over. As he fell through the air on the other side, he realized that the drop was suddenly much farther than he had anticipated. He landed on his feet and crumbled to his knees as he felt – and heard – a sickening crunch in his left ankle. Rolling onto his side, he grabbed his shin just above the throbbing joint. He tried to move it, but it was most definitely broken.

Tseng stood at the top of the landing, both hands resting lightly on the banister as he looked down on his squirming, wounded prey. Calmly, he turned to the left and started casually down the stairs, taking them one at a time. He ran his right hand delicately along the handrail as he went, keeping his eyes locked on Rufus.

Rufus tore his eyes away from the approaching Turk and looked towards the front doors. He was so close, the closest he had ever been. He looked back at Tseng. He was halfway down the left staircase. Grinding his teeth, Rufus pushed himself to his feet and lurched towards the door. He came down on his left foot and fell again. Cursing, he pushed himself back up and began hobbling towards the exit, slowly at first, dragging his broken limb behind him, and slowly gaining speed. He dared a look over his shoulder at Tseng. The Turk's eyes flickered to the right before breaking into a sprint towards him. What did he see? Rufus didn’t care, he started running for real this time, ignoring the pain in his shattered ankle. He heard the frenzied footsteps behind him. They were getting closer.

He stretched out his arms. Felt the crash bar cold beneath his palms. The door was opening.

Then something crashed into him. He was falling through the door, twisting under the impact to his right side. He landed on his back with something on top of him. He felt strong arms encircling his waist and the weight of a body laying across his legs. Then he heard the door click as it swung shut. He opened his eyes at the sound of it and found himself staring up at the night sky. He was outside the Shinra Building. He started laughing, a deep hearty bellow. Lifting his head off the concrete sidewalk, he looked towards his legs and saw the top of Reno’s head with his cheek pressed firmly against his chest. So it was Reno that had tackled him yet again. He thought for sure it had been Tseng this time.

“You can let go now, Reno,” he told him as his laughter abated. Lifting his eyes, he saw Tseng’s dark figure silhouetted against the glass door. He had both fists raised and pressed against the pane. His eyes looked cold and serious. But he was grinning, although that only made him look more ominous.

With a jerk, Reno pulled his right arm out from under Rufus and pushed off his chest as he sat up to straddle him. Leaning over, Reno stuck a finger in Rufus’ face.

“Got you again, VP,” he declared.

“Doesn’t count,” Rufus mumbled, as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the sidewalk with a dull thud. “We're outside.”

“Whatever!” he heard Reno grumble as he shifted his weight on top of him. Reno roughly pushed himself off of Rufus's stomach then offered him a hand up.

Rufus opened his eyes again and looked up at the disgruntled Turk. He started to reach for his hand, then stopped and just stared at him for a moment. Then, covering his face, he choked down another fit of laughter as he exclaimed, “Is that my coat?”


End file.
